These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 60!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live in the burbs and work in the city (Chicago, the best city in the world). I'm an aunt, a friend and a colleague. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

Collapse

That's how we started the day. Joey came up to my bedside and reminded me that he likes breakfast on time. I fed the cats, keeping a watchful eye on everyone staying to his/her own dish. Joey enthusiastically went for Reynaldo's kibble, I reached down to stop him, and BAM! Before i could even touch him, he went down.
I bundled him up in my arms and took him to the walk-in closet, where the boxes are located. He passed a stool while still laying down and then began panting. We stay like that for a while, and I called the 24-hour emergency vet.

I was surprised that they didn't recommend I bring him in right away. Glad, because I know how much Joey hates being handled by strange hands, but surprised. She asked me if he ever lost consciousness, and no he hadn't. Then she recommended I just watch him until Monday morning.

And so I have. He's eating and drinking with gusto and jumps up onto the sofa, same as always. I'm taking him to the vet tomorrow, of course. The spookiest thing about this is how unspooked he seems by the episode. While I think he's comfortable, I want reassurance. Cats are notorious for hiding their symptoms. I also suspect it was a combination of his arthritis and constipation that caused his collapse. But again, I'm no vet.

Charlotte has been gone a year and a half. Losing her was a shock. I had no idea she was as sick as she was. I am determined not to make that same mistake. Joey is going to be spared as much discomfort as I can.